Pretty
by Ritaann
Summary: Caught up in their own individual dramas, Allison Cameron was left to work hard to get to where she is today. Contol is her only vice in an unpredictable world. Set pre House


Title: Pretty  
Author: Ritaann  
Characters/Pairing: Allison Cameron (gen)  
Prompt: 001. Beginnings  
Word Count: 2,505  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: none  
Author's Notes: This is rather a darkish piece, delving into the world of eating disorders and I did a quite a bit of research on the subject, not having an eating disorder myself and whilst I do not aim to portray one specific disorder (many people who have an eating disorder have a combination of different types of anorexia, bulimia etc) my aim is more specifically to grow the character of Allison Cameron in a manner that isn't portrayed on the show… anyhow… its my lil experiment … I reserve the right to claim this a WIP. -- THIS IS CURRENTLY THE FIRST REVISED VERSION

xXx

…This is how it begins…

xXx

**Father**  
_n._  
A recurrent eating disorder characterized by the uncontrolled, excessive intake of any available food and often occurring following stressful events.

There was a time when Allison adored her father. His love of fitness as an international wrestling champion filled their walls with his trophies and ribbons.

Yet when he retired due to a back injury, food became his solace.

She often found him sacked out in the couch, buried under a pile of fast food packaging and beer bottles. Until one day, the pile was no longer larger than he.

Now she can barely look at him without cringing, and the only time Allison ever prayed to a God she adamantly declared did not exist was for that of her father's sanity.

That she herself, would not end up as he.

xXx

**Mother**  
n 1: a disorder of eating seen among young women who go on eating binges and then feel guilt and depression and self-condemnation syn: binge-eating syndrome 2: pathologically insatiable hunger (especially when caused by brain lesions)

Façades

It was a business in which her mother dealt in regularly. It wasn't until later in life that Allison Cameron realized that she associated the acrid smell of vomit with that of her mother, mingled with expensive Channel that she would douse herself in an attempt to smother it unsuccessfully and only serving to highlight the fact.

Something was obviously wrong.

Betrayed by her sweet smile, young Allison could never quite see that her mother's eyes would sometimes take on a glaze.

Naievete camouflaged truth.

Allison and her basketball obsessed brothers were never the wiser;

Until the night she watched from the banister as her mother devoured a large bowl of apple peelings left over the bake sale that day, and lent over the kitchen sink for twenty minuets after the fact.

Allison Cameron prayed for the second time that year to a God she vehemently did not believe in, asking that her naivety could be bought back.

Caught up in their own individual dramas, Allison Cameron was left to work hard to get to where she is today.

Contol is her only vice in an unpredictable world.

xXx

Pretty;

_1. Pleasing or attractive in a graceful or delicate way._

It always begins, with a word, a look; a gesture. Little signs that taunt, tease and make her think twice about future actions.

"If only you'd lose a few pounds," he mother said, clicking her tongue as she scrutinized her daughters figure in the mirror of the expensive boutique they had visited on the chance that the perfect dress for senior prom would be upon its wooden racks.

Eighteen year old Allison smoothed her hands along the curves she had received only a few years prior and thought about her last meal.

That night at dinner she frowned at the fried steak that is plonked unceremoniously upon the clean, white china before her. Immediately, she begins to tear it into tiny pieces, yet eats only three bites and a helping of salad. Undressed

She smiles politely, yet does not engage in the lively discussion taking place between her brother and father more so than to nod and feign interest for fear of being pointed out as 'different'. In thanking her mother for the meal, Allison hides a screwed up napkin in her slender fingers, the contents of which she feels she cannot swallow.

She is careful, controlled, measured.

Allison has worked hard to get to where she is at, losing pound by pound. Her mood is uplifted when the scales are in her favour and sour when the numerals gain in magnitude.

Her inner self triumphs at her cleverness in avoiding family gatherings so as to limit glib remarks about her weight. She is studious, researching at the library, tucked away in the far corner with her obsession between sheets of math notes is the methods of diet and nutrition. She treads the fine line between health and obsession, nurturing her secret in the same manner she hordes the growing pile of forbidden foods underneath the burgeoning pile of clothing that no longer fits in her closet.

"You look beautiful," her date had exclaimed as she descended the stairs of her parent's home, and she blushed in acknowledgement.

He had asked her as his date only a day after the date had been finalised by the prom committee. Always the student that favoured studying for finals or working on an assessment over that of going out with her small group of conservative friends, Allison was plesantly surprised and accepted immediatly.

That night, they are crowned prom king and queen and she secretly congratulates herself on her self control and months of hard work as she climbs the stairs on wobbling legs and smiles politely as the tiara is placed on her head, and her partner receives his crown.

Later that night, they lay in a bed of scratchy sheets and a creaky head board, in a foreign room of an unknown location. Her eyes stared into the darkness at the naked and sweating figure above her. Grunting, he pounded his hips in an inexperienced manner as she thought of the dress she worked so hard to look good in; lying in a scrap heap in the corner opposite that of the door and willed herself to sleep.

xXx

Pretty;  
_2. Clever; adroit: a pretty maneuver._

Allison Cameron worked hard to get to where she is at.

_"People… people dismiss me, because I'm a woman, because I'm pretty,"_

At college, professors would always take notice when she was in the room; stare unabashedly as she wandered down the hall amidst her small group of friends. Hair greying at the temples, eyes wrinkled and a smiles as clear as glass, many had a silhouette that rivalled in weight the size of their egos.

Gary Steinhart was different.

"Could I see you after class, Miss Cameron? Only for a short moment-" the sentence hangs in the balance and she waits for him to continue. When he does not, she nods her response and disappears further into the shelves of the library.

His foreign accent and distinct manner of speaking followed by his scent is what assaults her senses weeks before a formal meeting can take place. He is German, twice her age, and to one who is sheltered amongst small town life, Allison has never been as close as she is at present to someone as distinctly not of this land as he is. It is this that draws her to him.

His sweet talk of his home land and the hardships he faced there drew her compassion as they spent languid nights riding around in his corvette until they found the perfect locations, far, far away from where anyone could possibly find them.

He stole her away for romantic dinners, made her feel special. Wanted, not just for her body, but for her mind. He nourished her soul and dismissed her diets- calling them fanatical and proclaiming that all women were to have _kervan_.

Allison Cameron contemplated not going home next break.

"Professor Steinhart-" Allison knocks carefully upon the heavy oak doors before entering, acutely aware of the image they most both uphold on campus. Her makeup is lightly applied and a simple ensemble of t-shirt, sneakers and jeans are her only attire. Spring break is about to begin, and unsure of her decision to spend it with her parents she visits in the hope of being asked to cancel.

His office is bare, all personal items removed from their once snug locations.

She flees, assuring herself that he too has gone on vacation.

Later that night, whilst typing away at the library computers, Allison checks her email to learn that she will never meet him again.

xXx

Pretty;  
_3. Very bad; terrible: in a pretty predicament; a situation that has reached a pretty pass._

The scales in her bathroom taunted her each morning.

Each morning she complied and stood upon the expensive electronic balance she spent a little too much time on, her need for accuracy: perfection down to the third decimal place outweighed all coherent thought.

Consistency comforted her.

Allison calculated her mouthfuls carefully, methodically, eating only what she knew she could burn off quickly with physical activity.

Then Dan entered her life.

His charming wit and smile swept her off her feet from the moment he stopped in the hallways of Georgetown University to help her pick up the large and unwieldy pile of notes she had dropped in her hurry to reach the next lecture on time.

Then, he had invited her to coffee on her next break. For a walk in the park that surrounded the university, for dinners at cute little home grown Italian restaurants.

He made her feel special, wanted. Seduced her with sweet pet names Allie and endearing notes I love you which he tucked neatly within the pages of her notes for her to find during class. He'd watch as she turned the pages in the library and blush as she read his words and smile softly as she repeatedly glanced at the blood red paper it was written on throughout the evening.

Allison worked hard for his affection, making sure she ran the miles each morning to make up for calories eaten the night previous, skipping lunch to be sure she'd fit in that little black dress, smiling each time he greeted her.

His proposal came as a surprise, and in her acceptance she asks that they postpone the wedding until after graduation. Their youth and naivety her main reasons for concern. She places the small though sparkling stone on her finger and wears it with pride.

Allison Cameron never does anything by halves.

The news comes quietly, a routine visit to gain a doctors certificate certifying his health before undertaking the 50 km trek across the grand canon with his creed.

That morning she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and reminded him of his appointment.

That evening he tells her that he will be off in a study session during lunch in one of the lecture theatres and thus, will not be meeting her.

The next week, during a detour through the oncology ward on her way to sign up for third year rotations at the dean's office she comes across Dan, padding across the hall in a paper gown and flimsy bathrobe, on his way to CT.

Time stands still.

In between hospital appointments, lectures and assignments; a dinner to be cooked, the apartment cleaned within an inch of it's ten year existence due to Dan's weakened immune system chaos Allison Cameron still strives for perfection.

Rarely a moment to herself, time once spent on exercise is often traded for wiping Dan's brow after her has been sick in the mornings, or cramming for anatomy.

Her clothing follows her in bags around her hips and arms, yet she barely notices. Until the day Joe pays a visit whilst Dan is at the hospital. A faithful visitor and friend, Joe is often the one who offers to drive Dan in his Ute to the hospital during lunch breaks, drops off dinner to save her cooking. Only this time he isn't here to help out with Dan.

Gently, he tugs at her hand and pulls her from where she sits upon her bed, hunched over text books and over to the full length mirror in the apartment which was there when they had first rented it and whose reflection she valiantly tries to ignore each morning.

"Allison," he whispers sadly, "look at what you are doing to yourself." She balls up her fists, clenching she tries to push her way out of the confined space that is the bathroom, yet he over powers her.

"Joe- I'm fine," she keeps her voice strong, the strain on her forehead indicative of the lies she knows she is voicing. She hasn't been fine for a very long time.

"No. Your not; your losing weight by the day, and if you don't start taking better care of yourself, I'm going to have to do something about it," taking hold of the folds of her shirt, once taunt around her middle, now with oodles of space he bunches it to reveal her thinness.

"Dan loves you Allie," his use of her special nickname that only Dan has ever called her brings back strong memories of their first dates together and moisture gathers at the corners of her lids. "You have to be healthy in order to take care of him fully,"

"Are you suggesting that I haven't devoted my full attention to his needs?" her voice rides up a notch and Joe shakes his head in frustration.

"Of course not, but you won't be able to keep this up at the rate your going- he's beginning to express concern, Allison. You have to take care of your health, in order for the both of you to get through this."

Allison does not allow the tears to fall, yet nods her head resignedly. Ashamed that she has not escaped without notice, her obsession exposed. That she has lost the control which knowledge has afforded her and fallen into the dark well that follows her constantly.

xXx

Pretty;  
_4. Ostensibly or superficially attractive but lacking substance or conviction: full of pretty phrases._

Its her first day at Princeton Plainsboro teaching hospital,and Allison Cameron will do anything to not screw it up. She is sure that she has taken ten steps between her bed and the bathroom each morning for the past month, and not eaten a grain of rice over her daily required calories. Each night she packs her lunch, with the easy excuse of 'staying on budget' prepared on her lips.

Rituals comfort her.

Allison Cameron works hard to be liked by everyone.

So hard that she is yet to please even herself.


End file.
